My Baby needs an Angel
by LadyStVire
Summary: Mama and Sean were saying their prayers in bed when Cami heard the knock on the front door. At first, she had assumed it was one of Father's business associates. But then she heard it, between one breath and the next, it was Uncle Kieran and there was something else, something with him. A one-shot of what happened the night Hayley's parents died. Rated for possible triggers.


Trigger warning: some intense threats made against a child

I do not own Cami, Kieran, Sean or Hayley. They and the Originals all belong to The CW and Julie Plec. Collin and Mariette were created by me. This was all done in fun and no money was made off it.

And one more quick note, I haven't been watching The Originals since the end of Season 3. It broke my heart and I refuse to be burned again. If there is a reason to try it again, I trust people will let me know.

 **My Baby needs an Angel**

"It's done Sir, she's dead."

Collin O'Connell stood in his kitchen, his hand was on the telephone, his eyes were on his wife, sitting at the breakfast table, reading a book and drinking her coffee. The smell of chicory permeated the air and filled his lungs. But Collin's mind was far away, replaying a distant rainy night.

Several years earlier

"Cami, we're gonna get in trouble," Sean whimpered, tugging anxiously on a lock of her hair.

She shook him off, irritated that he would distract her for even a second, yet also deeply grateful that he was there. And that he had said "we" not "you're" it was never "you're" between them even when she knew it probably ought to have been.

Sean would never rat her out, he would never abandon her to face their father's wrath alone, and if they were caught now, with her blond head shoved halfway through the stair railing, eavesdropping on the adults' private conversation, Sean would hold her hand and take the punishment alongside her.

It was this conviction that made her reach out and take his sweaty little hand in hers. A silent apology.

 _Two more minutes_

It was their deal, struck a thousand times. Over a thousand detested activities. One could brave anything for two minutes, whether it was climbing trees, memorizing saint's names, catching frogs or lecturing teddy bears.

 _Two more minutes_

Mamma and Sean had been saying their prayers in bed when Cami had heard a car coming through the rain up the long tree-lined drive to the house. At first she had assumed it was one of Father's business associates. The somber men and women in expensive black suits who looked at Father with respect and Mamma with something else, something that bordered on awe. Mamma and Sean had continued as if they hadn't heard the car. Though Sean had opened his eyes when the car door slammed.

Father had answered the front door, while Mamma was singing, her eyes had strayed to Cami and her voice had risen. Sean hadn't noticed, but Cami knew Mamma was singing a little louder and faster than normal.

C'était un' p'tit' poul' grise  
Qu'allait pondre dans l'église,  
Pondait un p'tit coco  
Pour l'enfant qui dort bientôt.

And then Cami had heard it, between one breath and the next, it was Uncle Kieran and there was something else, something with him. Mamma had heard it too she had finished the song, given three quick, distracted kisses to each of her children and a strict order to stay in bed and go to sleep to only _one_ of them.

"Fais do-do." Mamma said sternly, her narrowed brown eyes fixed on her daughter.

Cami had _tried_ to obey her Mamma, she really had. But she had been suddenly desperately thirsty, and it had only been made worse by the drumming of the rain on her window. She had counted her fingers, forwards and backwards, and swallowed her spit but it was no good.

In the end, she had no choice but to get up out of bed and go to the bathroom to get a drink of water. Then she just couldn't help it when she _almost_ tripped and spilled her water at the top on the stairs. It was just safer, she figured, to sit down and finish drinking her water right there.

After that she had quit lying to herself and started eavesdropping in earnest. Abandoning her water glass and sliding down ever so slowly, ever so quietly, step by step. It had been a journey of inches from the top of the stairs to the fourth stair down, with her head pressed to the bannister. Then Sean had come, rubbing his eyes and tugging gently on a lock of her hair, trying to coax her back to bed. Trying to keep them both out of trouble.

"Kieran, what the hell brings you here on such a god-awful night?" Collin demanded as he threw open the front door for his devout twin.

"I didn't know where else to go. What else to do," Kieran panted, as he hurried in out of the downpour, clutching his squirming bundle to his chest beneath his overcoat.

Collin could tell immediately that something was very wrong. His brother was hunched over and deeply agitated. When Heloise, the maid, appeared in the parlor doorway, drying her hands on her apron and reached to help Kieran off with his coat, he rudely pulled away from her. Casting a frantic, apologetic look at his twin.

"It's fine, Heloise, you go on about your chores," Collin ordered, stepping between his brother and the tiny maid.

She dropped a brief curtsy and hurried to make herself scarce. Collin ushered Kieran into their father's old mahogany study. Kieran hurried across the room to the fireplace, where a fire burned low. Only then did he finally, carefully shake off his wet coat.

"The Labonairs are dead, the Crescent Wolf Pack is in chaos." Kieran said breathlessly over his shoulder, still hiding his precious cargo from his brother.

"Ah, this is grand news!" Collin exclaimed coming forward to slap his brother on the shoulder. Only to freeze when he saw what his twin was holding.

The baby was small, but it was likely more than a year old. It had a mop of shiny brown hair and the biggest blue eyes Collin had ever seen, which regarded him curiously.

"What is that?" Collin demanded angrily, grabbing his brother by the shirt, moving to shake him and the baby.

"What is what, cher?" The lilting Creole voice of Mariette O'Connell asked from the study doorway.

Her effect on her husband was immediate, he released his brother and turned away, shoving his hands through his hair. Kieran turned deliberately to reveal his burden to his sister-in-law.

Mariette's face contorted instantly, her lips drawing back from her teeth in disgusted hiss. Her eyes flew accusingly to the priest's face.

"Why would you bring this _thing_ to my house? Under the same roof as ma bebes?" She demanded, her French accent deepening with her anger.

"Marcel Gerard brought her to me after her parents were killed," Kieran argued. "I didn't know what to do?"

"You didn't know what to do?" Collin demanded incredulously. "You kill it!"

Kieran fell back in revulsion at his brother's words. "She's just a baby!" He cried in alarm.

"No, it's a werewolf," Collin snarled, his rage making him seem larger than he actually was, he stormed across the room grabbing his twin by his oh-so precious holy collar, forcing the priest to his knees and shoving his face closer to the guttering flames, the baby started crying at the sudden violent motion.

The fact that Kieran instinctively curled protectively around it in response to the child's fear, enraged Collin further.

"I won't do it." Kieran vowed quietly, holding the pretty little girl against his heart, quieting her cries.

"Our father is spinning in his grave," Collin proclaimed, turning away from his brother in disgust, and pacing around the room, like a tiger in a cage. "We are O'Connell's, we are wolf killers," Collin jabbed his finger at the Irish coat of arms above the fireplace. "Since our ancestors crawled out of the bogs of Ireland this family, your family, has been fighting the wolves.

"They called us O'Connell because we were the only clan that was strong enough, _brave_ enough to stand against the beasts. Unlike Patrick and the snakes, our ancestors actually _did_ drive the wolves out of Ireland. And now you dare to weep over this mewling pup? For shame!"

Rage and agitation was in every muscle, every step, as Collin rounded and stormed toward his brother. Mariette's eyes followed him, he could feel her expectations weighing on him. It was his duty to protect this family, and the weakness of his brother embarrassed him.

"If you honor your family at all," He shouted pointing at his weak cowering twin. "you will throw that _thing_ on the fire!"

"No!"

The loud denial came, not from the priest kneeling before the fire, but from the little blond girl in her nightgown standing in the study doorway, her twin standing resolutely just behind her.

All three adults turned to stare at Camille and Sean, with varying levels of horror. Mariette raised the back of her hand to her mouth as she sank moaning to the floor at the sight of her children witnessing the ugliness that would be their birthright. She watched their innocence die before her eyes.

"No, ma bebes, go back to bed you," She pleaded, wishing for the first time in her life that she had a witch's powers. That she could snatch the memory of this night out of her children's heads. But her ancestors had long ago chosen a different path.

"Are you going to burn the baby?" Camille asked ignoring her Mamma, her wide green eyes fixed solemnly on her Father face.

"It's not a baby," Collin corrected his daughter, defensively. "It's a werewolf. Evil and unnatural."

"No, father, it's just a baby," Sean argued, in his solemn, oddly grown up way. "Werewolves can't trigger their curse until they reach puberty."

Sean stepped forward to stand beside his sister, taking her hand in a show of solidarity. "That's what Uncle Kieran said."

"So, if you kill her, that makes you a murderer," Camille declared triumphantly. "That makes you just like them."

Collin's eyes narrowed at his children's logic, and their sympathy for the unnatural.

"Then what do you think we should do with it?" Collin invited sarcastically, challenging them.

Cami thought for a minute, her small face contorted by the depth of her concentration. She began to carefully formulate her argument. Trying to see the places where Mamma or Father would object. Struggling to find contingencies, and counter arguments; a baby's life hung in the balance.

"We should keep her with us." Cami said finally, resolutely.

Her parents reacted with shock and disbelief. Her father's face began to flush as his shock turned to anger. But Uncle Kieran looked contemplative, he could already see her arguments, he understood the plan and the humanity of it. Her uncle's acceptance urged her on as she hastily launched into her argument, before her father could dismiss it.

"We could change her name, so her pack can't find her," Cami reasoned, a little too frantically, a little too fast. Sean squeezed her hand, a gentle reminder for composure. "We could teach her that werewolves are bad, and that they don't exist. We could keep her from ever triggering the curse. She would grow-up a normal human."

"And when she 'accidently' triggered her true nature?" Collin demanded cynically, he could feel his wife falling under their daughter's spell, his brother was already on her side. At five-years-old the girl could talk the Devil out of Hell, she was going to be formidable when she grew up.

Cami bit her lip, this was the part of her plan she liked the least. It was a gamble, and worse still she was betting the baby's life on it. She squeezed Sean's hand warning him without words that he wasn't going to like her next words, but it was the only way. Father would take her more seriously with this contingency.

"Then we would kill her." She answered gravely, swearing to the little bundle in her uncle's arms that she would personally make sure that her baby sister _never_ became a werewolf. "It would be easy, because she would trust us, we would be her family, she would never expect us to hurt her."

The last hard words tasted vile, and cruel, but Cami promised herself that they were worth it, they would save the baby. And it was never going to happen.

Mariette began sobbing at her daughter's cold calculating words. Kieran found himself shocked by his niece's heartlessness. Collin dashed his hand over his face, and felt him slide sideways into his daughter's trap. Despite his bravado he had no desire to kill an infant, even if it was a werewolf, which his son had cleverly pointed out, it wasn't, not yet anyway.

"Fine," He sighed.

"Collin!" Mariette shrieked in horror, she could never raise a werewolf alongside her children, the idea nauseated her.

"Fine." Collin said again sharply. "But it doesn't stay with us, it can go and live with the Marshall's."

"Werewolves killed Linda Marshall's mother," Kieran argued climbing to his feet, now that the baby's life was no longer in immediate danger.

"Exactly," Collin exclaimed proudly, "there is no way in Hell Linda will get too attached to the baby. When the time comes, and mark my words it will, Linda and Greg Marshall will kill this wolf, just like all the other ones."

Cami wanted to argue but her father purposefully left the room, she could hear him on the phone in the living room talking to Linda Marshall. Mamma came forward and took Sean's hand, she reached for Cami's but her daughter pulled away, going to her uncle instead.

Mariette swallowed back her grief; she knew that something important had been broken in her children tonight, especially in her daughter. Camille would now believe that she could save every wounded creature she came across in the dark and Mariette knew the inevitable end to a life lived with that belief. She turned away from her brave daughter, and led her son upstairs to bed.

Cami cautiously approached her uncle her eyes glued on the little girl in his arms. Kieran knelt down so that Cami could better see.

"What's her name?" she asked tenderly reaching out to touch the tiny soft hand.

"I don't know, what would you name her?" Kieran asked.

Cami bent her blond head to the baby's brunette one, staring pensively into the baby's blue eyes. "I'd give her a little girl's name, like Hayley. Not a grandma name, like Camille."

Kieran chuckled, "Hayley, it is then."

Several years later

"Thank you, Linda. Your mother would be proud." Collin said as he hung up the phone.

"Was that Linda Marshall?" Mariette asked, glancing up from her book. She could hear her teenagers stirring upstairs and they would need breakfast soon. Camille had a Chemistry test today and Sean had his catechisms after school so he would need to pack himself a snack.

"Yes," Collin answered.

"How's Hayley doing?" Mariette asked her voice falsely bright, as she placed her bookmark and got up to get herself another cup of coffee.

"She's dead," Collin said bluntly.

Mariette paused holding her coffee cup half way between the counter and her mouth, her eyes riveted on her husband.

"Hayley triggered her curse yesterday, killed a kid at school."

Mariette crossed herself and whispered a prayer for the victim's family.

"Last night, Linda drove Hayley out into the woods," Collin continued, "She shot the girl in the head and dumped the body in the swamp."

A relieved smile spread across Mariette's face. "Mais, that's a relief, cher, that girl was always bad news." She took her husband's hand and squeezed it affectionately, before getting to work on the rest of the morning. Glancing out the window she could tell it was going to be a beautiful day.

A/N

Fun Fact: O'Connell means "strong/brave as a wolf," curious no?

On Cami and Hayley's ages: I figure Hayley is about 18 months in this scene, plus the year between the actresses puts Cami at two and a half years old, which didn't work, so I used some creative license and stretched two and a half into four or five.

Translations

Fais do-do - Go to sleep

Ma bebes - My babies

Mais - Well or but

Cher - Dear

Lullaby

There was a little grey hen  
That went to lay in the church,  
Laying a little egg.

For the child who'll be sleeping soon


End file.
